Just Partners
by Helkauiel
Summary: One-shot: Exploring the relationship between Booth and his Bones. Rated T for suggestive content. Booth/Bones.


****I don't own 'Bones' or any of it's characters. I am however obscenely fond of them, and would be more than happy to have them. ****

Dr. Temperance Brennan pushed the end call button on her cell phone. Booth was coming over, despite her halfhearted protests that it wasn't necessary. She was surprised to note how comparatively easily she had resigned herself to the fact that her partner was spending the night (and not for the first time).

To make sure she wasn't murdered violently in her sleep.

She should have been concerned that her life was once again in jeopardy because of her role as a forensic anthropologist who, due to her own perverse sense of determination, was once again wrapped up in a dangerous murder investigation that required her being constantly shadowed by the FBI. The keyword was should.

In all honesty she wasn't bothered anymore. As Temperance left the lab more and more frequently, leaving the 'squints' as Booth so lovingly referred to them in the Jeffersonian, somehow she had become used to an almost omnipresent sense of danger lurking around every corner.

The kicker was that she kind of enjoyed it.

Tempe had had many stern mental conversations with herself on the subject, although she always had found it odd to speak to oneself inside ones head when there were other perfectly acceptable forms of introspection. She told herself that it was nothing more than her sympathetic nervous system activating hormones and norepinephrine flooding her system and sending shivers of anticipation down her spine when there was a particularly exciting case on the table.

She told herself that. It didn't really work nearly as effectively as she would have hoped. But she didn't mind overmuch. It was much easier to leave the world of psychological processes in the hands of Dr. Sweets anyway.

With a sigh she sat on her couch and pulled out a new anthropological journal with an article she had been curious to read while she waited for her partner. As she skimmed the print her mind was only about half processing new findings about the relationship between coercion and persuasion in several varieties of primates. The rest was intently listening for Booth's footsteps out in the hall, signaling his arrival.

The two of them had come a long way since his first visit to her house where they had been 'jamming out' as Booth would have said, at least, before her refrigerator exploded on him. Then he had been like a foreign entity invading and polluting her personal space. She had been quite indignant at the notion that she couldn't take care of herself even if the danger was out of her usual realm of experience. But there had been something in Booth's eyes when he said he would keep her safe and would willingly give his own life to do so that made her begin acquiescing more readily to his staying with her. She also knew that doing so made him suspicious, and she admittedly got an impish pleasure from keeping the FBI official off-balance.

Blankets and pillows had taken up a permanent habitation next to the sofa since Booth's overnight stays had become more and more frequent over the last months. He was quite the convenient houseguest, if she was to give the special agent his due. He was relatively tidy, cleaned up after himself, and could cook a decent meal for two if Temperance remembered to have food in the fridge.

In a gesture of irritatingly obvious anxiety, Tempe began twirling a strand of her chestnut hair through her fingers. Doubtless Booth will have procured some form of take-out food for the two of them to share on his nightly shift. No matter how many times she protested against the lack of nutritional value in most of the food he enjoyed, she somehow always ended up eating whatever he happened to bring anyway. Mostly because Seeley had that nasty habit of constantly ribbing her about her ability to completely ignore the human need for food while she was working.

She did smile wryly at that thought. It was indeed a blessing to be able to do what she loved, even if it had earned her that damnable nickname at the FBI. There was no logical reason that Booth should insist so stubbornly on referring to her by a name that was nothing like the one the rest of society used to refer to her. But secretly, Tempe found it an exceedingly flattering gesture. Even though the partners couldn't have been more different in personalities and specialties in her mind the nickname was a tangible sign that the two of them had forged a bond beyond just partners. They had started meeting for dinner or drinks after work, and now Seeley practically resided on her couch.

Not that she was glad in any way that Booth was sleeping on her couch.

No.

Not at all.

It was just a pleasure to be co-habiting with someone after so many years of living alone. Especially someone she cared about and trusted as much as Booth. At least that was what she told herself to stem the flow of the other even more confusing emotional questions that swirled behind her aquamarine eyes. He was more than just her partner and friend, he was…

-

Special Agent Seeley Booth hefted his duffel onto his shoulder and grabbed a bag of carryout before kicking his car door shut on his way into his partner's apartment building. All of his senses were on high alert while he scanned the perimeter for any potential threats. Yet again Bones' infuriating desire to stick with a case had landed her in hot water, and it was his job to make sure that she didn't boil like the bones she studied. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary outside the building-no suspicious loiterers, mysterious abandoned packages, nothing was out of place. Booth's sniper's instincts told him all was well, and satisfied that the premises was secure, he made his way inside and toward Bones' door.

Just before the threshold he paused. Coming to Bones' place was beginning to feel more and more almost like coming home. Yeah, sure, he had his own place, but he was there alone most of the time. And she lived alone. There was a certain amount of irony in a pair of lonely people keeping each other company, Seeley thought wryly. Maybe that's why they had settled into this odd little almost domestic routine more readily than either of them could have anticipated.

Although, strictly speaking, his sojourns in her apartment were really just a matter of Bones' personal safety. It was his responsibility to protect his favorite squint from the serial-killer-wackjob of the week. And damn did that lady have a knack for getting into trouble with those types. Seeley's mind reeled when he tried to account for each of the times he had had to heroically rescue her from some form of jeopardy. She practically invited danger in for tea and cookies. And that's why he needed to spend those countless hours on her sofa-to make sure nothing happened to her.

But if he would admit it to himself, he truly just enjoyed spending time with his Bones. His. She'd been his since he first dubbed her 'Bones'. Seeley was well aware that she detested the name initially, but then again, provoking her was one of the great joys in his life. Besides, he would much rather refer to her as Bones than Temperance. Although he had to confess that Tempe was a very cute nickname. He leaned against the wall with a smile.

There was no one he trusted over her. She was his partner, his friend and…

What more could he possibly want?

Not to be sleeping on the sofa for one. Beds were much more comfortable. And he'd seen Bones' bed on the way to the bathroom-how that tiny woman could possibly occupy such a large space by herself was beyond his comprehension.

Not that he had been thinking about Bones' bed.

Or her in it.

In order to save himself from a potentially dangerous train of thought involving long suppressed feelings for a certain anthropologist, Booth rapped on the door with his knuckles and waited.

-

Booth grinned widely when her face poked around the doorframe. "Hey Bones, hope you're in the mood for Chinese." He shook the bag of food excitedly for emphasis.

She chuckled and swung the door open for him to enter her domain. "Thank you Booth. At this point, I would settle for consuming cardboard."

His breath caught in his throat. Oh god, did she look gorgeous. And not in the typical sense; she wasn't all dolled up for some gala or in her strictly dirty work attire. This was Bones in her own skin. The sight of her chestnut hair pulled into a mostly neat ponytail, jeans and a blue Jeffersonian t-shirt filled him with a certain amount of pride; only a privileged few got to see that woman with her hair down. Figuratively speaking that is. She smiled as he passed and his heart did a well-practiced summersault.

Bones was doing some surreptitious sizing up of her own as she allowed Booth in. His muscled physique, typically well hidden under his suit, was plain to see in his ARMY t-shirt. And that man's gluteus maximus… She would have to be blind not to see how good it looked in those jeans. Seeley had to be one of the most handsome men she'd ever seen, let alone invited in to her home. But even though he was just there for business, it certainly was a pleasure too. Her pale skin flushed slightly at the inappropriate turn her thoughts had taken and hurried after Booth before her mind delved any further into those well-buried notions.

After scarfing down some egg foo young and mushu pork, the partners settled with beers in hand on the sofa for the second half of their routine: indulging their mutual love for cinema by watching movies on the TV and DVD player Booth had purchased. Bones protested him buying her anything but he claimed the expense was worth it seeing that is was, as he put it, 'an investment in her cultural education'.

"Alright, it was your turn to choose this time. What movies did you pick?" Bones asked curiously as she tucked herself into an Indian style sitting position and settled into the cushions. By now she had enough faith in Booth to entrust him with the duty of putting in the DVDs all by himself.

He beamed like a school-kid bringing home an A paper for the fridge. "Ok, so you're gonna love this one." Plopping down beside Bones, he rummaged through the duffel with some grumblings of difficulty before pulling out-

"'Forgetting Sarah Marshall'? What value could this possibly possess?" Frowned Bones, her eyes narrowing in confusion as she stared at the teal DVD case.

"Absolutely none besides entertainment." The FBI agent shrugged. "I figured you could use a movie from this decade."

"I resent that. I've seen plenty of films in the last ten years." She decided to not mention to Booth that most of them had been artistic, independent films not released in the United States. Something told her that he wouldn't 'count' that.

"None with as many pop culture references I'm sure you're going to need me to explain." Trying a new tactic, he wheedled, "I brought something else that we can watch first if you promise you'll watch both."

She laughed despite herself at the amusement in Booth's face. Staring at him she said seriously, "I want to know what it is before I make any form of binding agreement."

"Good call, I was testing you." As Bones' eyebrow arched in incredulity he hastily added, "Uh, I mean, where's the fun in that?"

With a sigh, Bones sunk even further into the couch and took a sulky pull of her beer. "Fine. I'll watch this 'Forgetting Sarah Martin'-"

"Marshall."

"-Whatever it's called, if your second choice is more appealing."

Booth slid the DVD out of his bag and presented it to the anthropologist without ceremony to let her judge without his opinion. He was more than slightly pleased at her gasp of surprise and subsequent squeal of joy.

"Oh Booth! This is a classic! Although I can't quite condone Blanche or Stella's behavior, the caliber of acting in this film is indescribable. Besides, Brando looks quite fetching in that white t-shirt…"

He coughed surreptitiously before continuing, "Well, I'm glad a picked a winner." It had been a total shot in the dark at the video store, browsing the classics with his hands shoved furtively in his pockets as he struggled to guess at what Bones would like. It would have to be something old, because let's face it, her knowledge of pop culture and various colloquialisms (or lack-thereof) has one more than one occasion sent him spiraling in despair. 'A Streetcar Named Desire' seemed to fit all necessary qualifications, plus, it was one he enjoyed too.

And he could see Bones being a Brando fan. Honestly, who wasn't? It was kind of cute. As long as she wasn't too enamored with the star of the silver screen that is.

Shit.

Now he was getting jealous of movie stars getting attention from Bones. That was a new level of pathetic.

"Let's pop it in, shall we?" He said quickly, pulling the DVD out of her hands. "Need anything before I put this in?"

"Nope." She bounced up and down a little, the endearingly childish antics only serving to more clearly distinguish the woman she was when work wasn't looming over her head. Bones smiled and lifted her beer in a mock toast, "Let's get this party initiated!"

Without missing a beat, Seeley moved towards the DVD player and said without bothering to turn around in shock, "Started, Bones. Let's get the party started?"

"Whatever."

-

Booth had no idea that watching a movie with a friend could possibly be worse than any kind of physical torment he had ever encountered.

He felt like a hormone-infected teenage boy hanging out in the basement with his girlfriend facing the struggle of keeping his eyes focused on the screen. A task made exceedingly difficult when he could see that Bones' face was glowing with delight.

He'd seen that face completely absorbed in describing minute details of the human skeletal system and spouting vocabulary he'd never hope to understand. But this face was entranced and her eyes were following the actors with an intensity he wished could be focused on him. Not with her wrathful anger, which he knew all too well. He was one of the lucky individuals to glimpse tenderness and compassion coming from Temperance Brennan.

It just wasn't enough if it was only in the spirit of camaraderie and friendship.

In the glow of the black and white figures on the screen, Seeley's fingers itched to slip between hers. His thought process was running in circles and it was the same argument he had been having with himself for months only on high-speed; "She looks beautiful-I want to kiss her-I can't-That ruins everything-She looks beautiful-I want to kiss her-I can't…"

He was shocked out of this Ouroborean loop by the sounds of his Bones' voice mixing with Kim Hunter as the two women spoke in unison, "I never listen to you when you're being morbid." He laughed outright at the quote the archeologist how chosen to voice aloud.

"Really Bones? You're the one who pokes dead people for a living. I'm not sure you're in a position to talk about morbidity."

Tempe turned at him with a wryly raised eyebrow. "Booth, you and I both know that our society's continued fear and closeting of death creates the impression that what I do is something 'morbid'. In reality, all it is is piecing together a puzzle."

Her calm and collected response, to her relief, did not display in any shape or form the anxiety she had been trying to conceal. It wasn't as though she'd never watched a movie with a man before. She'd had plenty of lovers and boyfriends over the years and had sat on a couch watching films in a completely innocent manner.

Tempe had never thought that it could be torture.

She really hadn't been watching 'Streetcar' all that closely if the truth was to be told. Every part of her body seemed to be on high alert and she was disturbingly aware of Booth's presence on the sofa next to her. As the plot progressed it felt like gravity had been pulling her towards him, and the two were just barely touching. And it was taking every ounce of her willpower to hold her back from just leaning into the comfortably solidarity of Booth's body.

She wasn't sure that he would react favorably to that, but there was something in her mind that told her that maybe she should.

His stern features were relaxed into that easy smile that could always lift her spirits. No matter what was going wrong; whether it was if she couldn't determine a murder weapon, she was frustrated with a new book, that one smile could create a warm comforting tingle from her head to her toes. The physiological explanations for her reactions kept chiming themselves at her, but at this moment, Tempe didn't feel like listening to the logic and reason.

"Oh really? Is that all?" Seeley rolled his eyes with feigned irritation.

Oh Bones. Still so clueless.

"No." She said quietly. "No, not really."

She had his attention with that. Seeley turned to Tempe with concern; she only spoke like that when she was very emotionally agitated. He wondered what he could have done to cause it, and wanted to kick himself for accidently upsetting the one woman he never wanted to see upset. And he could only think of one way to fix this.

He had to kiss her.

It was no longer just a wish, but a fierce, consuming need. After that incident under the mistletoe last Christmas, Tempe's lips had more than frequently made appearances in his dreams and had distracted him on more than one occasion in the middle of one of her explanations of the cause of death. When Seeley saw her lip her lip nervously, he knew he had to do something.

-

She had to kiss him. There was no way around it. Tempe had gone way too long without a significant other in her life, mostly because someone named Seeley Booth had made himself a significant part of hers. She had often found herself replaying that incident under the mistletoe; a kiss had never left her with such a deep sense of longing, feelings of incompleteness before. At the time she didn't know what she wanted. Now she knew that the only thing she craved was Booth and if she wanted him, had to do something.

The partners looked at each other; words escaping both in the enormity of what they were about to do. They leaned towards each other and as their lips met the rest of the world (including the psycho killer who was the reason that Booth was spending the night in the first place) simply faded out of all importance.

Seeley absently put his beer down on the table and moved his hands to cradle Tempe's face. She shivered at the touch of his large, strong, callused hands touching her so gently, and reached out her own tiny, pale hand to place it softly on the back of his neck. She smiled into their kiss as she felt him shudder in response as well. He moved close to her, effectively destroying the physical barrier between them once and for all. Pushing a lock of her hair out of her face, Tempe skimmed her other hand over his chest where she felt his heart beating as wildly as her own.

-

Neither of them could believe what was happening.

As they pulled back, chocolate eyes met aquamarine in a moment of complete, mutual understanding and acknowledge. Things had changed. They wouldn't be just partners after that kiss. But if the two were to be confess it, they hadn't been 'just partners' in a long time. These new feelings were as heady as any brand of alcohol and twice as pleasurable.

Sliding his hands though Bones' hair, Seeley's eyes asked the question that his voice could not. _"Is this ok?"_

Tempe answered his inquiry with the simple expedient of kissing him again. Seeley's surprise gave way to tender affection as his hands and mouth began to explore the curves of his Bones. She too was investigating her very special agent, marveling at just how _right_ it felt to be in his arms.

It wasn't long before the movie was completely and utterly forgotten. But both partners would always remember the last line they heard before becoming lost in each other: "I like you to be exactly the way that you are, because in all my experience, I have never known anyone like you."

**THE END**


End file.
